


in this essay, i will

by haloghost



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Analysis, Character Analysis, Death of the Author, Essays, Gen, M/M, MLA formatting, New Historicism, Other, Reader-Response Literary Criticism, Schools of Literary Criticism, and by forefathers i mean gay reader-response critics, but definitely a fanwork so i’m posting it, citations, i believe in humanity bitch, literary criticism, loving yourself and the world and opposing the government is PUNK AS FUCK, my friend called this essay punk which in addition to being the highest compliment ever is right, neil gaiman meet me on the lands of my forefathers for battle, not actually fanfiction, that’s right i have the power of god and academia on my side, this author is gay and hates the government
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-22
Updated: 2019-12-22
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:41:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21877561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haloghost/pseuds/haloghost
Summary: “The point I’m trying to make. IsGood Omens.That’s my point.”“Funny book.”“Nononono. Well, yes. But that’s not the point. The point is. The point is. It’s about like, the end of the world, right? And humanity, right? How to save the world. And Heaven and Hell, and, and the war, now that? Could be a....you know. Meti— no, meta— thing used to represent another thing. And then there’s the angel and the demon. In love, take it from me. Very important to the meaning of it all, you know.”I WROTE AN ESSAY ON GOOD OMENS FOR MY AP ENGLISH CLASS. THIS IS THAT ESSAY.content warning for occasionally questionable MLA formatting, citations, and usage of academic literary terminology
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Heaven & Hell (Good Omens)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 11





	1. The Essay

**Author's Note:**

> listen the assignment was to write an at least ten (mine was thirteen) page literary analysis research paper on a book of our choosing, so of course i chose good omens. like, what was i _meant_ to do?

“Human incarnate:” _Good Omens_ as a Lesson on Power and One’s Ability to Make a Difference

“If you want to imagine the future...imagine a figure, half angel, half devil, all human…Slouching hopefully towards Tadfield....forever” ( _Good Omens_ 474). These are the final lines of Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman’s _Good Omens_ . Perhaps it is an odd choice, to begin an essay about a book with the end of that book, but this is at least a partially New Historicist critique, and it is a rather important New Historicist idea that there is no definite end. Given that this “ending” invites readers to “imagine the future,” it is safe to say that this ending is not definite. Before we can imagine the future, however, we have to figure out how we got there. _Good Omens_ tells that story, but it does more than that: it tells us the story of our own world. Written during the Cold War and brought back to life as a miniseries in 2019, it addresses the questions that many a concerned citizen ask themselves: How do we create change? How can we make the world a better place? In the face of injustice at the hands of those in power, what can we do? The answer lies in that figure in _Good Omens_ ’ final lines: “half angel, half devil, all human” (474), and my own, very human, interpretation of the novel. 

Reader-Response and New Historicist literary criticism contradict each other in many ways. However, they overlap in a couple very important places, namely that a work of literature cannot accurately be analyzed as a completely self contained work. Ross Murfin points out Stanley Fish’s argument that “any school of criticism that would see a work of literature as an object, claiming to describe what it _is_ and never what it _does_ , is guilty of misconstruing the very essence of literature and reading” ( “Reader-Response” 339). So what is the essence of literature? According to Stephen Greenblatt, one of the founders of New Historicism, “the work of art is the product of a negotiation between a creator or class of creators...and the institutions and practices of a society” ( _Learning_ 158). Art, including literature, is more than a bunch of words on a page. It is an interactive experience, affected by everyone and everything involved in its production and consumption. This is true, but I choose to push that concept further, past society’s “institutions and practices” and instead focus on those that make up society: the reader aspect of this “negotiation.” After all, “the reader is active” (Rosenblatt, “Transactional” 123). Why would I, as the author of this paper, choose to write about this particular book if I was not an active reader, who had an emotional response to the book in question?

However, I mention New Historicism because in the context of _Good Omens_ , I feel that taking at least a very narrowly focused New Historicist perspective is essential to understanding the Reader-Response analysis I intend to present. As put by Greenblatt, we cannot look at art “as if art alone were a human creation, as if humans themselves, were not, in Clifford Geertz’s phrase, cultural artifacts” ( _Renaissance_ 4). I am a “cultural artifact.” My experiences and beliefs that shape the way I interpret this novel and other works are directly connected to the society I live in and the history that I am a product of. Furthermore, _Good Omens_ contains themes that are inherently New Historicist. In contemplating why God allowed the events of the book to happen, the demon Crowley says “it _has_ to be very complicated Solitaire. And...if we could understand it, we wouldn’t be us” (463), which is basically the philosopher Michael Foucault’s idea that no historical event has a single cause through a religious lens, as well as the New Historicist belief that it is difficult for an individual to understand the full scope of an event (Murfin, “New Historicism” 261). Anathema, the occultist, describes her ancestor’s prophecies as “memory” that “works backwards as well as forwards” (266), in alignment with history not being a continuous development to the present. Finally, the book ends with Armageddon failing to happen as planned, cementing the New Historicist view that history is not something that will come to a definite end (Murfin, “New Historicism” 261). _Good Omens_ is inherently New Historicist, which is why, even from a primarily Reader-Response analysis, New Historicism must be referenced. In acknowledging the impossibility of an individual to pinpoint the cause or meaning of something _as stated in the work itself,_ I admit the shortcomings within my own personal analysis. However, within the scope of modern society, I believe that my viewpoint has value, which is why I have chosen a blend of Reader-Response and New Historicist critique to analyze this work. In this essay, I will show how _Good Omens_ leads readers to reconsider the positions of those in power and recognize their own ability to create change, from the perspective of a young member of the LGBT community who wishes to make the world a better place. 

According to literary critic Norman Holland, readers use “the literal work to symbolize and finally to replicate ourselves. We work out through the text our own characteristic patterns of desire” (“UNITY” 816). Hence, it is no coincidence that I see Good Omens as essentially a humorous presentation of exactly how I view the world, despite it being written over 30 years ago by two people who, in terms of material details, I have little in common with. This gap in background is where New Historicism comes in, because my “characteristic patterns of desire” are a product of my culture and history. As stated, this includes being young and LGBT, but I should also acknowledge that I do come from a place of privilege that may afford me a more optimistic view of the world, having been raised in an upper middle class community where I have access to education, information, and opportunities that others may not. I can afford to think about the things I address in this paper: society, the bigger picture, and how to create change. It should also be pointed out that I live in the United States, while _Good Omens_ is distinctly British. However, I think that western society and culture is similar enough that the meanings are easily translatable. All this being said, I will not pretend to be an expert on the plight of all marginalized people, but simply offer my thoughts on the messages about humans and the “end of the world” that could be taken from _Good Omens_ , and why I, as the active reader, see them as important and positive.

Despite my inclusion of New Historicist critique, I have made the very intentional decision to ignore the authors’ perspective while writing this novel in my analysis of it. The Forward of _Good Omens_ states that Pratchett and Gaiman “didn’t think [the book] was important. And in a way, it still isn’t” (xi). This is a point that I, along with many readers, would disagree with. While the authors may not have considered it important, the fact that I am writing this essay today would prove that it is very important, no matter which way it is looked at. That is what Reader-Response criticism is all about. Gaiman also refers to the novel as “a funny novel about the end of the world and how we’re all going to die” (484), while Pratchett states it was written “by two guys who didn’t have anything to lose by having fun” (489). _Good Omens_ is fun, and it is funny, and it should be pointed out that the aspect of the authors “not having anything to lose” does affect the messages that Pratchett and Gaiman were able to include. If a book was not written to sell, there is more authorial freedom to include what could be considered more radical or controversial implications. However, the authors make it clear that the book was never _intended_ to be anything more than a funny apocalypse story written on a lark. That does not mean it cannot be more, it just means that the narratives that we as the readers derive from from it are _ours_ . We “complete [the work] imaginatively” (Murfin, “Reader-Response” 337). As such, Pratchett and Gaiman’s intent has little bearing on the messages I intend to prove that _Good Omens_ contains, and will not be further addressed in this essay.

_Good Omens_ , the book, was written and published during the end of the Cold War. In the almost thirty years since its release in 1990, it has become a cult classic, eventually reaching a larger audience with the adaptation of the story into an Amazon Prime miniseries which became available to watch in 2019. The miniseries takes the story into the twenty-first century, but the messages and meaning that can be gleaned from it remain the same. Why? Well, in the words of television critic Mike Hale, “Armageddon seems as real a possibility now as it did three decades ago. The story’s hopeful universalism and ecological consciousness, which played well against the backdrop of the late Cold War and the ozone hole, feel just as necessary” (NYTimes.com). The world leaders and specifics of exactly what kind of weapons countries are stockpiling may be different, but the underlying sociopolitical tensions and sense that something needs to change are still as much a part of life as they were when the story of _Good Omens_ first became known to the world. Despite book reviewer Joe Queenan’s insistence that _Good Omens_ is just “pointless wisecracks about people and institutions that are impregnable to satire because they are self-parodying entities” (27), its comedic, rambling narration has held up remarkably well over the past thirty years. Perhaps Queenan felt that the “self-parodying” nature of the subject of some of Prachett and Gaiman’s jokes meant such jokes were a cheap shot, but the reality is that society, at the time, was just like that. The world was, and still is, already a satirization of itself. That doesn’t mean that attempting to satirize it then becomes a serious of odiously unfunny lines, but rather a way to highlight the state of the world while providing literary entertainment. The realization that what initially reads as an exaggerated joke is all too in line with actual reality is an acute way of achieving exactly what good satire should. This of course includes providing insight into the institutions behind the all too real tensions in this actual reality of the world today. 

_Good Omens_ ’ relationship between Heaven and Hell, as well as the nature of the upcoming Armageddon, all act as an extended metaphor for western society and the bigger picture. The demon Crowley describes the modern day Heaven and Hell as “bureaucracy” (461). Considering that the novel was written during the Cold War era, this reads as a clear comparison between the Heaven and Hell dynamic and what were, at the time, current political tensions which are still relevant today. Crowley explains that “what really causes wars is two sides that can’t stand the sight of each other and the pressure builds up and up and then anything will cause it. Anything at all” (428). The point here is that between these two sides, there isn’t really a “right” side. Sure, Heaven is meant to be good and Hell is meant to be evil, but Aziraphale and Crowley know that those are “just names for sides” (67). At one point, Aziraphale and Crowley list off a number of political leaders that their bosses believe to be destined for their respective sides, and “three names appeared on both lists (131). Apparently, “current thinking [in Heaven] favors [guns]. They lend weight to a moral argument. In the right hands, of course” (121), which seems entirely counterintuitive and points out that even the supposed “good” side isn’t going to shy away from war, which is seen as a bad thing. If the reader needs more proof that the Heaven of _Good Omens_ is an obvious representation of every governmental institution that paints themselves as the “good guys” while maintaining policies that contradict this, take this conversation between the book’s resident angelic and demonic experts on humanity. According to Aziraphale, “people couldn’t become truly holy...unless they had the opportunity to be definitively wicked” (44). This makes sense, humanity is defined by its ability to make choices, and good and evil cannot exist without each other. However, Crowley points out that “that only works, right, if you start everyone off equal, okay? You can’t start someone off in a muddy shack in the middle of a war zone and expect them to do as well as someone born in a castle,” to which Aziraphale claims that “the lower you start, the more opportunities you have” (44). For anyone who knows anything about the experiences of America’s poor, this is clearly not the case, and also sounds a lot like the rhetoric pushed by certain politicians insisting on welfare cuts. The point is, Heaven and Hell, and by extension the world’s opposing powers, are not as opposed as they may seem. At the end of the day, both sides want Armageddon to happen, _need_ Armageddon to happen, because if there isn’t a war to win, then how are they meant to prove that they’re the better side? It seems to Aziraphale that the naturally angelic thing to do is to stop Armageddon, to protect the world and the creatures that live in it, but the Metatron clearly tells him that “the point is not to avoid the war, the point is to win it” (286), which is when Aziraphale realizes that Heaven isn’t the institution he thought it was or wanted it to be. Heaven doesn’t care about protecting the world. They care about protecting their reputation. 

Then, Armageddon doesn’t happen. When discussing the “what now?” aspect of this turn of events, Crowley says “For my money, the really big one will be all of Us against all of Them...Heaven and Hell against humanity” (462). The real battle here is not between two opposing bureaucratic powers. The real battle is the bureaucratic powers as a whole against the people they are failing to serve. Just like Heaven and Hell care more about winning against each other than humanity, our governmental leaders care more about maintaining their seat or looking good to the international community than fulfilling the needs of their citizens. The big battle isn’t going to be a left wing government versus a right wing government, or capitalism versus communism. It’s the people in power versus the communities of ordinary people, our own “Heaven and Hell” against “all of us.”

If this is the case, what does that mean for us humans, or the possibility of our own Armageddon? _Good Omens_ responds to that too. At the end of the book, it is Adam Young, the eleven year old Antichrist, who ultimately stops the apocalypse. In the words of Crowley, this is because “He grew up human! He’s not Evil Incarnate or Good Incarnate, he’s just...a _human_ incarnate” (436). Adam might be the Antichrist, but it’s not his powers that save the world, it’s his _humanity_ . It’s the fact that even when pressed to rule the world, he offers up most of the planet to his friends, only taking his own village of Tadfield for himself, because his home is “all [he’s] ever wanted” (369). He’s not a god, but a person, with all the regular experiences, feelings, and desires that come with being human. Furthermore, Aziraphale and Crowley, the only two supernatural entities that try to stop the world from ending, have been living on Earth, amongst humans, since the beginning (18, 44). In fact, their fellow angels and demons think that they’ve “gone native” (18). After all, “you couldn’t hang around humans for very long without learning a thing or two” (45). Crowley, a demon who is meant to spend his existence making humans miserable, is even said to “rather like people” (43). The point is, when it comes down to it, it’s not going to be the most powerful, godlike members of society who seem to have the means to fix everything who will _actually_ fix everything. That power rests solely with the ordinary people of the world. These are the people who, instead of looking at the world as something to control, divide, and conquer, like Heaven and Hell, see something filled with terrible and beautiful things, from the Spanish Inquisition (43) and parking tickets (55) to antique bookshops (52) and sushi (65). Those in power are too disconnected from the world to be the ones to save it. That responsibility lies with the rest of humanity. We might be “this huge powerful potentiality” (67) for good or evil, but that’s not a negative thing—after all, good and evil are “just names for sides” (67). Really, this potentiality is what makes us, as humans, special. We are intelligent enough to have created a world of decisions, choices, and free will, which means that we can choose to save that world. In the words of Adam, it doesn’t matter “what is written [in God’s Great Plan]. Not when it’s about people. It can always be crossed out” (435). We, the ordinary people, can _cross things out_. Our destiny doesn’t have to be written by those in power. Ultimately, it will be through the efforts of the common people that the change to avert our metaphorical Armageddon will be made. 

So if it’s up to us to save the world, then how are we meant to find it in ourselves to do so? After all, many of us, including myself as the author, find ourselves in a position where we feel that the world is set against us. Pessimism seems like the only realistic option. This answer lies in two other rather important characters. So important, as a matter of fact, that the more streamlined made for TV version of _Good Omens_ makes them the main characters. Adam might be the one who eventually saves the world, but Aziraphale, Crowley, and most importantly, their relationship, show important meaning as well. Interpreting Aziraphale and Crowley as being gay and in love with each other serves to further the overall messages of the book, which is why I feel that it must be considered in an essay of this kind. If the continuous references to Aziraphale flagging as gay and the multiple instances of bystanders assuming they are a couple are not to be taken to mean exactly what they ought to mean, which is of course that the two are in love in the most homosexual way two supernatural beings can be, then the entire meaning of the work is shortchanged. Of course, this is all perspective, but as a gay reader response critic there is simply no way it could have gone unaddressed. Wayne Koestenbaum asserts that “reading becomes a hunt for histories that deliberately foreknow or unwittingly trace a desire felt not by the author but by reader, who is most acute when searching for signs of himself” (in Boone and Cadden 177). Essentially, it is perfectly natural and even expected for an LGBT reader to find themes pertaining to their identity in books that may not have intended to convey that, and these sorts of analyses are entirely valid. Pratchett and Gaiman don’t make it difficult to find these themes, however: it is literally stated in the text that most humans assume Aziraphale “was gayer than a tree full of monkeys on nitrous oxide,” (194), which is further reinforced by various side characters calling him a “pansy” (283, 350) and a “poofter” (324). Furthermore, Aziraphale is aware of how people see him, owns it, and is implied to even be intentionally presenting himself as gay: when Witchfinder Sergeant Shadwell refers to him as “some Southern pansy,” his response is neither confusion or denial but rather, “Not just A Southern Pansy, Sergeant Shadwell. THE Southern Pansy” (351). Despite the narrator’s claims that “angels are sexless unless they really want to make an effort” (194) it seems apparent that Aziraphale is making an effort. A major part of both his and Crowley’s characterizations is that they are more human than angel or demon, so I would argue that they have a sense for the ideas of human sexuality, and as such, can certainly be gay together. I’m also not the only one who thinks so: after Crowley hits Anathema with his car and Aziraphale fixes her bike, she remembers them as “consenting cycle repairmen” (136). Shadwell calls them “nancy boys” (441), and the International Express delivery man sees them as “the couple with the bottle” (447). After all this textual evidence, the reader is left to ask, if Aziraphale and Crowley were not gay, then what was the point of all of that? It could be read as an elaborate running joke, but that would imply that being gay is a joke. It’s much more preferable and meaningful to read Aziraphale and Crowley’s relationship as one of forbidden gay love that culminates in the two finally getting their happy ending: dining together at the Ritz, while “for the first time ever, a nightingale sang in Berkeley Square” (463). This is, of course, a reference to the song by Eric Maschwitz and Manning Sherwin, which it should be noted is explicitly about a pair of lovers. Aziraphale and Crowley are gay and in love.

Given this, how does their love story relate to the larger point? Aziraphale and Crowley have known each other for “six millennia” (49), and they certainly care about each other, which is just further emphasized in the show. That’s not to say it’s completely absent from the book: when Aziraphale figures out the location of the Antichrist, he thinks “he ought to tell Crowley” (284). The catch is that this is quickly followed up with “No, he didn’t. He _wanted_ to tell Crowley. He _ought_ to tell Heaven. He was an angel, after all” (284). Throughout the book, Aziraphale tries to play into the idea that he is a very proper angel who wholeheartedly believes in the heavenly cause, insisting that Heaven “will win, of course” and “after [Heaven wins] life will be better!” (52), even as Crowley points out that Aziraphale would “be as happy with a harp as [Crowley would] be with a pitchfork” (53), that is to say, not at all. Even as he aids Crowley and spends time with him, Aziraphale keeps up the narrative that he is somehow doing as he is intended as an angelic servant of the Lord. Crowley convinces him to help him influence the Antichrist by framing Armageddon as being a “diabolical plan” (65) that Aziraphale has to “thwart” (66) because “certainly [Heaven] won’t mind [him] thwarting [Crowley]” (66). It is only when Aziraphale speaks to the Metatron about the nature of the impending Armageddon and the role that he is expected to play that he fully allows himself to admit that he is not on their side, as shown when he gets sent back to Heaven to prepare for the war (291) and immediately returns to Earth, even without a body (324) to continue trying to stop the Apocalypse. The idea here is that in order for Aziraphale and Crowley to settle into their post-not-apocalyptic happy ending, they both have to reach a certain level of acceptance of who they are within the context of what the world is telling them, and who they actually are. Crowley starts off the story with this acceptance, readily admitting that while he is no angel, “he hadn’t meant to Fall” (25), as well as his acknowledgements that he likes people (43) and wouldn’t be happy if Hell won the war (53). Aziraphale, however, takes much of the book and presumably the previous six thousand years to come to his own version of this conclusion, that, as Crowley puts it in the fourth episode of the miniseries, they are not on opposite sides, but on “[their] own side.” This arc, coupled with the obvious gay coding of Aziraphale’s character, mirrors overcoming internalized homophobia. Or, to refer back to Adam’s wording, _crossing out_ the narrative that Heaven and Hell have written for him. This is the key to beginning to create change: realizing that the ideas pushed by those in power, the ideas that make one want to revert to nihilistic pessimism, are wrong, or at least don’t have to be true. Furthermore, this idea holds the most meaning for those who are part of marginalized or oppressed demographics. Oppressors keep their power by justifying their treatment of those they see as below them, whether because of race, gender, sexuality, religion, or ranking amongst the Heavenly Host and fraternization with the enemy. In the words of anti-apartheid activist Steve Biko, “the most potent weapon in the hands of the oppressor is the mind of the oppressed” (92). By convincing us to not love the world, or to not love ourselves, they keep us from recognizing and acting on the power our humanity contains. It is up to the oppressed to reject these ideas and ultimately embrace the kind of radical self acceptance that will be the jumping off point to creating change. 

So, _Good Omens_ may have been written by two guys just having fun writing a silly book for “a summer job” (xi). However, to me and many other readers, it is so much more than that. Woven within a fantastic tale of ethereal and occult forces is a vital message about power and humanity. This becomes apparent from the perspective of both current world events and my personal view as an active reader. We can change the world, and we can do that by believing in it and loving it, but most importantly, believing in and loving ourselves. No literal or figurative Heaven or Hell will do it for us. We might not be able to make it perfect, because the ideas of sides and the ability to do good or evil will always exist, but we can make a difference. So raise your glasses, as Aziraphale and Crowley do in the closing scene of the miniseries, “to the world.” More importantly, to the idea that we live in a beautiful and terrible world that is nevertheless worth saving, and that we can save it. And with the readers’ help, in the face of what seems to be our own almost-Armageddon, we _will_. (Aziraphale, lover of the world, the written word, and gay culture, would find this conclusion absolutely tickety-boo. Crowley, after making fun of his angel for using such a phrase, would be in agreement as well.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just for the record, those last two lines were not included in the version i submitted to my english teacher lmao
> 
> also i saw the show before i read the book, which definitely then affected my interpretation of the book. diehard book fans don’t @ me
> 
> if you’re inclined to argue, please note that this assignment required a narrow focus and that i simplified and left out a lot of things i could have included for the sake of not driving myself insane. however, i do generally agree with the sentiments i expressed in this paper. bootlickers and contrarian pessimistic cynics don’t interact. this includes you, neil gaiman
> 
> edit: got an A and my english teacher told me that after reading this he wants to watch the show!!! not to be braggy but i am very proud of this
> 
> find me on tumblr: good omens sideblog is [emocrowley](http://emocrowley.tumblr.com/), main is [iwbft](http://iwbft.tumblr.com/)


	2. Works Cited

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> what it says on the tin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> idk why you’d want to read this but i spent over an hour getting all the information and fixing the formatting for it so i’m including it

Biko, Steve.  _ I Write what I Like: A Selection of His Writings _ . Heinemann, 1987, p. 92. 

Greenblatt, Stephen J.  _ Learning to Curse: Essays in Early Modern Culture _ . Routledge, 2015, p.  158

\---.  _ Renaissance Self-Fashioning: From More to Shakespeare _ . UChicago Press, 2012, p. 4.

Hale, Mike. “Review: In ‘Good Omens,’ Angel and Demon Try to Save the World.”  _ The New  _ _ York Times _ , 31 May 2019, nytimes.com/2019/05/31/arts/television/good-omens-review.html. Accessed 13 November 2019.

Holland, Norman N. “UNITY IDENTITY TEXT SELF.”  _ PMLA _ , vol. 90, no. 5, 1975, pp.  813-822.

Koestenbaum, Wayne. “Wilde’s Hard Labor and the Birth of Gay Reading.”  _ Engendering Men:  _ _ The Question of Male Feminist Criticism _ , ed. Joseph A. Boone and Michael Cadden, Routledge, 2012, p. 177. 

Murfin, Ross C. “The New Historicism and  _ The Awakening. _ ”  _ The Awakening _ , Kate Chopin. Case  Studies In Contemporary Criticism. 2nd Edition. Ed. Nancy A. Walker. Boston: Bedford/St. Martin’s, 2000. pp. 257-269.

\---. “Reader-Response Criticism and  _ The Awakening. _ ”  _ The Awakening _ , Kate Chopin. Case  Studies In Contemporary Criticism. 2nd Edition. Ed. Nancy A. Walker. Boston: Bedford/St. Martin’s, 2000. pp. 337-348.

Pratchett, Terry, and Neil Gaiman. _ Good Omens: the Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes  _ _ Nutter, Witch _ . 1990. William Morrow-HarperCollins, 2006.

Queenan, Joe. “The Four Bikers of the Apocalypse.”  _ The New York Times _ , 7 Oct. 1990, p. 27.

Rosenblatt, Louise M.  _ The Reader, The Text, The Poem: The Transactional Theory of the  _ _ Literary Work _ . SIU Press, 1994, p. 123.

“Saturday Morning Funtime.”  _ Good Omens _ , written by Neil Gaiman, directed by Douglas  Mackinnon, BBC, Amazon Prime, 2019.

“The Very Last Day of the Rest of Their Lives.”  _ Good Omens _ , written by Neil Gaiman, directed  by Douglas Mackinnon, BBC, Amazon Prime, 2019.


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